


Recovery

by unfortunate17



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Liam is kind of pathetic, Liam is really rich, M/M, They're both kind of idiots, Zayn is a university student, Zayn is kind of a dick, warning that it's sort of sad until it gets happy, ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 02:42:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfortunate17/pseuds/unfortunate17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn is 19, Liam is 29 - Liam just wants to know that he’s still “got it” and Zayn wants an easy way out in life. Neither of them expected feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recovery

**Author's Note:**

> For Noel.

_____________

"Zayn?"

Zayn shifts over from where he’s huddled into his own pillow, out of Liam’s grasp because he claims that he only sleeps in Liam’s bed because Liam asks him to, “What the fuck? What time is it?”

It’s three in the morning and Liam is wide awake, eyes forced open by the words rattling in his brain, “Sorry.”

"Fuck," Zayn hisses, "Can’t I at least get some sleep on holiday? Go wank in the bathroom or something."

Liam flinches and he reaches out to rub a thumb over Zayn’s heartbreaking cheekbones, “Sorry.” He’s not sure why he’s apologizing - it’s probably the nerves. 

Zayn cracks a bleary eye open and his face looks stricken, like he knows what Liam’s going to say, but he’s not brave enough to stop him, “Well. Spit it out then.”

"I love you," Liam whispers, "Zayn, I love you."

Liam’s been waiting for a while to say those words to Zayn and even though he knows it’s probably a bad idea, he physically cannot hold them back anymore. Can’t bottle them up when Zayn talks, smiles, or  _breathes_ in his direction because that’s how pathetic this has all come down to. 

He also hopes Zayn’ll return the words - maybe utter them back so Liam can reach across the cold space between them on the bed to fold Zayn into his grip and make him breakfast in bed and kiss him without the promise of immediate sex. 

The hope is rapidly deteriorating the longer Zayn stays silent, though, and Liam forces himself to glance up into Zayn’s face for a split second. 

Zayn’s looking at him in disbelief, shock, and a hint of sorrow. Liam’s stomach drops with everything he’s given up, exposed - laid himself bare for someone who doesn’t want him the same way, for someone who wants his  _money._

 _But_ , Liam muses,  _Zayn is worth it._

_____________

Liam met Zayn through a summer intern program at his company.

Zayn was a first year university student majoring in Business with a minor in Communications and Journalism. He had sky-high hair, beautiful gold skin, a face that could break a man’s heart in two, and an unhealthy interest in Liam’s colleagues. 

Liam knows that Zayn fucks three of them before he finds out that Liam’s “The Boss” and sure enough, Zayn’s at his office door with a cup of coffee and a seemingly innocent smile within two days of being bent over by Liam’s financial assistant. 

Looking back, his biggest mistake was letting Zayn in that door. Because Zayn walked into that door, into his life, into his wallet, and into his heart. And Liam doesn’t know how to get rid of him without ripping out a chunk of himself in the process. 

At first, though, it’s  _incredible._

Zayn’s disarmingly charming, incredibly charismatic, and draws everyone’s eyes at functions and parties. Liam’s very aware (and partly cocky) that he’s got the attention of the most beautiful person in the room and that he gets to take this person home at the end of the night. 

Liam doesn’t have to play boyfriend - and he doesn’t expect Zayn to either. Zayn will drop everything and come down to his house to fuck or clear a weekend night to hang off Liam’s arm at a pretentious work party so long as Liam drops something into his bank account or hands over an expensive trinket. Having Zayn is nice - a nice  _fuck you_ to everyone that keeps telling Liam to find someone before he’s out of his prime.

But Liam knows that if he can pull someone as stunning as Zayn, he can pull just about  _anyone._

It’s not romantic or sweet - but it’s satisfying, fun, and Liam’s convinced that he’s getting his money’s worth. 

He doesn’t logically expect it to last though, so it’s a bit surprising that he’s so shocked when it all comes crashing down around him. 

_____________

It’s late December, the weekend before Christmas, and Liam knows that Zayn expects something big. The present isn’t the problem - Liam just goes out and gets Zayn the most expensive Rolex watch he can get his hands on - but the giving is the issue. 

Are they going to be exchanging gifts? Will Zayn be giving him something beyond a blow job? Or are they going to forgo the gifts and just fuck under Liam’s tree?

He’s not sure.

So, when the day trips by, Liam hides the gift in the back of his closet and resolves to only get it out if Zayn hints that he wants something. It’s not the brightest idea, but Liam’s already accepted that between him and Zayn, Zayn’s the brighter one. And Zayn knows how to get what he wants and isn’t hesitant about asking. 

Except that night, Zayn never calls like he said he would. 

Liam paces around, calls himself an idiot, and goes to bed.

He hears nothing for a week - not until New Years when Zayn finally calls him saying that he wants to go clubbing. They end up at a fancy club with a thumping bass, flashing strobe lights, and the latest R&B tracks.

It shocks Liam into remembering that he’s not as young as he used to be, and it doesn’t take long for Zayn to realize that he can’t keep up. 

"Babe," Zayn says to him, false sweetness dragging off his tongue, heavy with alcohol, "Why don’t you sit down and I’ll come get you at the countdown."

Liam nods. He feels slightly sick from the mixture of the noise and the shots and eases himself into a seat in the VIP area. 

His gaze follows Zayn onto the dance floor where he grinds up onto another man, who’s hands are dipping far too low for Liam’s liking. He watches curiously as Zayn turns around to face the nameless man, and smiles up at him with the same smile that he uses on Liam, reaching up to kiss his jaw and whisper in his ear.

White, hot jealousy floods Liam’s bloodstream, but he can’t go up there and demand that Zayn gets away from the man because he has no hold over Zayn that way. Just because Liam’s always been faithful in their strange set up doesn’t mean that Zayn had to be - or has been. 

It’s a difficult concept to grasp at that moment - accepting that Liam doesn’t really have anything Zayn wants - besides maybe a six-pack and a jaw-dropping bank balance. 

Zayn finds him for the countdown and his hair is mussed and there are bruises on the soft skin behind his ears. Liam is smashed by then, watching Zayn lavish a stranger with attention Liam likes to think is reserved only for him so, foolishly, he wraps Zayn up in his arms, gathering him close into his chest and breathing in the expensive cologne that Liam had gotten him on their fifth night out. 

Zayn tenses up in his arms but Liam kneads the back of his shoulders, smudging kisses across his forehead. 

"Liam?" his voice sounds amused, "How drunk are you, babe?"

"Very drunk," Liam admits and tips Zayn’s head up with very gentle fingers when the countdown begins, "Wanna kiss you now, though, because you’ve been with that bastard all night and I’d like a little Zayn too."

Zayn’s answering smile is deadly, “Jealous, Li?”

"Very," he breathes, leaning down, "You’re mine, Zayn,  _mine,_ yeah?”

There’s screaming around them as the New Year enters with blast. Liam leans down to give Zayn the softest kiss he possibly can. Him and Zayn don’t really kiss like this - ever, but it feels so nice. God, it feels nice, and Liam wants to do it again. 

So he leans down, only to be stopped by a firm palm at the center of his chest. Zayn slides his free hand into Liam’s hair and fists tightly, grip almost painful. He looks like a shark that’s just scented blood, “No, Liam,” he laughs, “ _you’re mine_.”

_____________

Zayn’s colder to him after that and Liam doesn’t know what’s changed but he’s not about to lose Zayn. He’s not about to watch another person smother their laughter behind their hand because Liam fucking Payne could run a corporation but not keep a relationship with a fucking university student. He can’t let that happen - not at twenty nine with everything going for him.

For Zayn’s birthday they have a huge bash where Zayn laughs and scampers around talking to everyone. Liam stands in the corner and keeps an eye on him, chewing his bottom lip when Zayn gets too close to anyone, swooping in with an arm around his waist. 

One of his secretaries laughs at him, nudging him, “You’re mad about him, aren’t you? Can’t say it’s not strange with the age thing and all, but good on you, sir, for finding someone.”

And Liam is  _aghast,_ insisting to himself that he doesn’t give a flying fuck about where or with who Zayn is as long as he’s still getting Liam off at the end of the day.

That night, Liam gets on his knees for Zayn and then after, gives him the rolex, watching as Zayn’s eyes light up at the gift (but not at Liam). He smiles at Liam like Liam is a stupid little puppy, hopping around for his amusement and slides the expensive watch around his wrist where it hangs closer to Zayn’s heart than Liam’s sure he’s ever been. 

"Thanks, babe," Zayn murmurs, pulling him into a kiss, which Liam pushes into, clawing at Zayn’s shoulders. 

"Happy birthday," Liam mutters to him, "Happy birthday, Zayn. Did you have a good time?"

Zayn hums noncommittally and turns away from him. He shakes his wrist to draw attention to the watch, “Not sure about before - but I know that I did now.”

"Okay," Liam murmurs at his back because he can work with that. He can work with that. Him and Zayn aren’t dating so it’s okay if Zayn likes the watch better than Liam’s company.

It’s okay.

_____________

Sometimes, Liam overhears what Zayn says about him on the phone. He often spends the next few hours trying to forget. But it’s a stupid reaction because he’s not really supposed to care and he’s not sure what to do with the fact that he does care since him and Zayn aren’t in a relationship or anything. 

"Yeah," Zayn is laughing, picking non-existant lint off a brand new cashmere jumper that fits his body like a glove and makes him look like something out of Liam’s dreams, "Just like that. He’s fucking easy, man."

Liam huddles back into the corridor because it’s late and Zayn’s probably assumed that he’s gone to bed. But, he wouldn’t be surprised if Zayn doesn’t really care either. 

"Mate," Zayn is saying now, cradling his phone between his shoulder and ear, "You’ve no fucking idea - he trips over himself to do whatever I fucking ask. Can point at anything and ‘s mine. Why else do you think I spread my legs? ‘s not like he’s that good of a fuck or anything."

Liam falls back then, pride stinging at the careless tone. He bangs his elbow against the corridor wall in his haste and Zayn’s eyes pull up to meet his.

"Yeah, see you, Ant," he mutters into the phone, "talk to you later. ‘kay. Bye." He flips it off and sets it calmly on the coffee table, straightening out his jumper. Liam knows that he doesn’t give a damn that Liam’s heard everything he’s just said.

"Zayn," the word is strangled coming from Liam’s throat and he’s not sure where he’s going with the sentence because it dies off.

"Hey babe," Zayn smiles, "need anything?"

"No," Liam murmurs. He rubs his arms to keep out the cold that Zayn seems to bring in. He closes his eyes, throwing out his pride, "Just you."

Zayn tugs off the sweater and crumples it into a ball before tossing it on the couch, “Sure thing, Li.”

And it’s not much, but Zayn starts to sleep in his bed. They don’t really spoon or cuddle or whatever, but Liam’s okay with that. They’re not really together or anything and Liam can’t really except him to want to sleep with Liam’s arms around him. 

Besides, Zayn’s breathing is soothing and in sleep he looks a lot more twenty than he does when his eyes are calculatingly determining Liam’s worth. 

And Liam can keep him - he knows he can. Maybe Zayn’s just a little more work than he’d expected, but he can keep him. Can treat him good and give a little more. He’s twenty nine, he’s got the world in his hands - he’s not about to let some university student that he wants to sleep with slip out of his grasp.

_____________

Zayn “forgets” about Liam’s birthday. 

It’s whatever.

Liam doesn’t need some kid’s wishes to make him feel better about himself.  It doesn’t matter if he wants it - he’s not gonna get it. And he can deal with that - he’s fucking thirty for god’s sake. 

_____________

Zayn wants an Audi in July. 

Liam furrows his brow and takes his hand, sitting down at the edge of their bed, “But can’t you take the tube to school?”

"I can," Zayn says offhandedly and he leaves it at that. 

Liam stays silent for a long time and swallows. “No,” the word tastes foreign in his mouth - especially when addressed at Zayn.

Zayn raises a smooth eyebrow and he doesn’t look the least bit disgruntled. He reminds Liam of a poker player - blank face, emotionless eyes, and pretty mask, “No?”

"No," Liam says again, more firmly, "You can take the tube. It’s barely a few miles anyway."

"Okay," Zayn slides his hand out of Liam’s grip and shrugs, turning to walk out of the room. 

Liam stands abruptly, clenching his fists, “Where’re you going?”

"Out."

Liam hurries after him and Zayn’s slipping into his shoes. He looks immaculate - stunning and something in Liam’s stomach twists, “Out where?”

Zayn opens the door, throwing a look over his shoulder, “How’s that any of your concern?” His voice is sardonic. 

"It’s not," Liam says hotly, "But if you think acting like this is gonna get you the car, it’s not Zayn."

Zayn only smiles at him, “Whatever you say, Liam.”

_____________

_“_ Where’s that pretty boy of yours? Haven’t seen him for a while.”

Liam looks up from the file he’s got spread out over his desk. It’s one of his secretaries - the one that congratulated him at Zayn’s birthday bash.  Liam shrugs, avoiding the question. The truth is, he doesn’t know where Zayn is - hasn’t heard from him in nearly two weeks. 

It’s surprising it is - how much it hurts. 

"It’s okay, sir," she smiles, popping her gum loudly, "The young ones never stick around - they’re only after the money. Better off without him, if I do say so myself."

Liam looks up at her sharply, blood thundering, “Zayn’s not like that, Nicole. He’s - he’s just been busy with uni. Can’t drop by as much now a days, that’s all.”

The woman shrugs, looking down absently at her nails, “Good for you, then, keeping  _Zayn_ interested. He’s quite the looker.”

"He’s - " Liam swallows, conversation gone too personal, even for himself, "He’s lovely. Yeah. Wonderful."

"Must be a lucky catch then," she laughs, brushing her finger through her blonde hair, "Anyways, you’ve got that financial officer outside - should I send him in?"

Liam closes his eyes, remembers Zayn’s fling with that very financial officer, and rubs his temples, “You know what, Nicole, can. Can you - tell them to come back later? I think I’m coming down with something.”

Nicole shrugs again, “Sure thing, boss. But if you take the day, can I too?”

He sighs, looking up at her through his fringe, “Sure. Go ahead.”

She salutes, red lips pulling into a smile, “Thank you, sir. And have a good day - hope you feel better soon.”

Liam sighs tiredly to himself. He’s got a lot of mending to do. 

_____________

Ever since Liam began footing his rent, Zayn lives on the nice side of town in a flat with a studio for his art work. Zayn doesn’t major in art, but he’s good at it - or so everyone says. Liam’s never seen any of his work.

Zayn opens on the third knock, a carton of Indian takeaway in one hand. His eyebrows raise when he looks at Liam, but he doesn’t look surprised. 

"Hi," Liam says awkwardly, "I’m sorry."

"Okay," Zayn says then - not unkindly, but not kindly either. He makes no move to let Liam into the house. 

"I - " Liam sighs and reaches into his pockets. He pulls out a set of keys and hands them over to Zayn, who takes them curiously, "To the Audi. For you. It’s in your garage."

Zayn assesses him quietly with his eyes and his voice is quieter, different than when he’s ever spoken to Liam before, “Come in.”

_____________

Zayn lets Liam fuck him that night and Liam takes his time, spreading Zayn out carefully and slowly, making his best effort in trying to make this as good for Zayn as he possibly can, the words from the phone haunting at the back of his mind. 

He makes Zayn come twice before he finishes and gathers him close, breathing deeply into Zayn’s hair, relief at being in a bed with him again. It’s terribly embarrassing, but he’s near tears. 

Zayn’s very quiet all night even though he’s usually a mouthy shit during sex, telling Liam where and how to move, giving up just enough that it feels like Liam is in control even when Zayn leads his every move.

"Hey, Liam," Zayn says and then there’s a long silence. "Thanks," he says at last, "Thanks for the car, babe."

Liam smiles, hands shaking, “It’s nothing. I wanted you to have it.”

Zayn sighs and smooths a hand down Liam’s back, laying a kiss to his shoulder. Liam shudders at the sensation and he has to scream to himself that they’re not together lest his body starts to get the wrong idea. 

It hits him though at that moment, how much he craves it - craves Zayn’s kind words and maybe, if he was lucky, laughter and teasing. He knows he could get it from practically anybody, but Liam wants it from Zayn. And Zayn’s proven to be a challenge, but Liam can do it - Liam can take charge of his own happiness. 

It’s okay if he’s a little terrified - he’s still allowed to be scared at thirty. It’s perfectly normal.

Zayn holds him for a few more minutes before he awkwardly pats Liam’s side twice, squirming, “Well. I’m bloody tired, Li, so if you’d let me go - then - “

"Oh," Liam backs away quickly, the sudden lack of contact pressing deeply into a strange wound in the underside of his ribs, "Yeah. Yeah, sorry. Right. Goodnight, Zayn."

Zayn turns over and huddles into his side of the bed like he always does, “Yeah,” he mumbles. Liam holds his breath until Zayn sighs and continues, “Goodnight.”

And Liam feels as though he’s finally done something right. 

_____________

The softness doesn’t last. 

It becomes something of a dream - something that Liam clings to at the fringes of his mind. He still doesn’t really know whether all of it happened the way he remembers or if it’s some bizarre coping mechanism his brain’s cooked up. 

Zayn doesn’t treat him much different, but Liam treats him differently. Doesn’t want to put that horrible label on what exactly Zayn’s doing with him - he’d much rather focus on how Zayn visits him sometimes during lunch, sits in his chair and messes with the equipment with stars in his eyes. Liam has Zayn’s dream job - he knows it and it’s nice. Nice to encourage Zayn and show him what’s possible if he works hard. 

On Halloween night, neither him nor Zayn do anything special beyond marathoning classic Tim Burton films on Liam’s flatscreen. Zayn’s wearing sweats and he’s wrapped up in an expensive hoodie - but it’s Liam’s hoodie and for some twisted reason, that makes all the difference. 

It’s normal and Liam’s lets himself have the moment, even if Zayn’s at the other end of the couch, eyes nearly pulling as he struggles to watch the end of  _The Corpse Bride_  for the fifteenth time. 

"Let’s get you to bed, yeah?" Liam mutters and he’s sliding across the couch, opening his arms to scoop Zayn into his chest. 

But Zayn shoves away and stumbles to his feet, rubbing his eyes, “I’ve got it. I can take myself.”

Liam nods, but he stands up behind Zayn anyway, “I don’t mind - I can take you up if you don’t want to walk.”

"I’m not your  _bitch,_ Liam,” Zayn says sharply, shoulders cracking as he stretches his arms up and over his head.

Liam’s mouth feels like sandpaper, “I know,” he swallows, “God, of course I know that. Zayn -“

"Fuck this," Zayn mumbles, "I’m going to bed."

And Liam is so incredibly confused, can’t keep up with Zayn’s moods and thoughts sometimes. Feels a little stupid about it too. 

He pads up behind him and crawls into bed next to him. Zayn groans and pushes further towards the end of the bed and Liam lays on his back, staring at the dark ceiling. 

Sometimes, he wonders how his life came down to this.

He sighs, turning to face Zayn, “Do you,” he wets his lips, “Do you wanna sleep somewhere else?”

Zayn turns back to look at him and there’s a flash of something in his face - it’s gone too quickly for Liam to read it but Zayn’s nose wrinkles at his words, “No. I’m good, here.”

And fuck, Liam’s not going to push that, is he? “Okay,” he breathes, “That’s good. Goodnight then, Zayn.”

"Whatever."

Zayn falls asleep quickly, a mixture of anger and exhaustion, while Liam worries into the night, a little confused on what exactly he’s worrying about. 

First things first, he knows he needs to start defining whatever he’s got with Zayn - and he’s going to have to do it soon. He just hopes Zayn doesn’t walk away if he does - although a sick feeling twists in his stomach when he realizes Zayn won’t walk away as long as his bank balance looks as good as he does. 

Liam fights back the lump in his throat and very gently, careful not to wake Zayn, shifts over until his chest is pressed into Zayn’s warm back, one arm curled around his waist. Zayn mumbles but doesn’t wake and Liam lets out a shaky breath at being this close to him.

Zayn would never allow it if he were awake, but it’s nice for now. It’s all Liam needs.

For now.

_____________

The weather cools drastically and Liam realizes with a start that it’s been almost a year since he’s started to see Zayn. He’s not sure how much longer he can keep pushing that it means nothing to him and surely,  _surely_ at this point Zayn feels something in return. 

Liam likes to take Zayn out because in public, Zayn holds Liam’s hand and smiles hugely up at him, light early-winter snow dotting his hair and the tips of his ears. He’s rarely like that at home and Liam’s starting to notice how fucked up it is that he wants this as much as he does without any proper reciprocation.  

It’s partly why he asks in public, when he and Zayn are bent over sushi. Zayn’s abandoned one of his chopsticks, right hand gripping only one of the two now, stabbing whatever piece of food he wants. 

Liam clears his throat, “I - d’you want to go on holiday?”

Zayn’s eyes barely flit up to meet his, “Where - and when?”

"Anywhere," Liam’s voice still catches and he curses himself into the ground, "And whenever."

Zayn nods to himself before he looks back up at Liam. He leans back in his chair, smiling emptily, “I’ve got exams up until the 17th. We can go after then, yeah? Somewhere warm maybe?”

"Okay," Liam agrees, cracking a faint smile, "We can go on our first date in the Bahamas if you want."

That catches Zayn’s attention quickly. His eyebrows shoot up, “Date?”

And then Liam’s reaching across the table, gripping Zayn’s hands in fear that he’ll up and leave.  _He won’t leave though,_ something whispers to him cruelly,  _at least not without your wallet._

"Yeah," Liam says with a lot more confidence than he’s really got at the minute. See, he’s always been a leader, always had bright ideas and big plans, but Liam’s always lacked self-confidence in general. He knows it makes for an interesting team leader, "I’d like for it to be a date."

Zayn laughs, shoulders shaking, “Want me to be your boyfriend, Liam?”

"No," Liam admits, "I’d like to be yours actually."

At his words, Zayn sobers instantly and he looks down at his free hand, which Liam imagines is probably curled into a tight fist, “Do you?”

"Yeah," Liam says honestly, "I think I’d like that actually - like it a lot. That cool with you?"

Zayn looks stunned for a moment before his features smooth out into their regular blankness, “Fine,” he snaps, “That’s fine with me. But I want to fly first class.” Liam nods along until Zayn throws in all that he wants, “The first class with the private compartments, though.”

Liam sighs, “Why?”

"It’ll be quite the flight," Zayn points out, "Probably at least a good ten hours. Don’t think I can handle that much boyfriend shit if you know what I mean."

Liam blinks, “Oh.”

_____________

Zayn aces his finals just like he - and Liam - expects him to. At this rate, he’s easily going to graduate with honors and Liam’s just as proud as he is afraid. After graduation is uncharted territory for them and Liam would like to continue having Zayn on his arm - but maybe more-so for his own benefit than for his colleagues now. 

They fly out three days before Christmas and Zayn spends in the entirety of the flight either asleep, aimlessly flicking through his ipod, and cutting Liam short when he tries to make conversation. 

Liam’s booked them a residential style villa at the One and Only Ocean Club in Nassau with a mile’s stretch of private beach. Zayn looks at the cabin once and then up at Liam, who sort of shrugs.

"Last minute decision," he lies - Liam’s looked up the hotel for months, wants it to have everything Zayn could want so maybe they’d enjoy themselves for a while, "Just. Booked it spur of the moment, you know."

"Oh," Zayn says softly and the looks around in the porch from where there’s a huge view of the setting sun over the breaking ocean. Everything feels tangerine tinted and Liam holds his breath, "It’s nice."

Liam grins easily then, eyes crinkling as a weight lifts off his shoulders, “That’s good.”

"Liam," Zayn mutters then and he pushes back into him, wraps both his arms around Liam’s waist and buries his face in Liam’s neck, "Liam."

Liam holds him tighter, ocean breeze filling his lungs, “Yeah?”

"Thanks."

_____________

Liam’s on the edge of sleep, jet-lag throwing off his set routine, when he feels Zayn shift from under his arm. 

"Liam?" Zayn’s voice is muffled into his pillow, "What’re you doing?"

Liam blinks his eyes open in the hazy moonlight and looks down at Zayn confused, “What?”

Zayn shoves at him, pushing Liam’s arm off his waist and Liam’s blood runs cold from a mixture of embarrassment and humiliation. “I - sorry,” Liam flinches back, wonders how quickly he can possibly set himself on fire, “Didn’t mean to.”

Zayn’s quiet for a long time, “I know you do it a lot. It’s - “

"Sorry."

"No," Zayn shakes his head and he turns to look back at Liam and for the first time in his life, Liam can say that he’s seen Zayn without the mask in place. Staring back at him are a pair of hazel eyes, wide and young, and afraid, "It’s okay, yeah. You can - " Zayn motions furiously before turning around completely and fitting himself in Liam’s space, "It’s fine."

Zayn’s slender fingers are in his hair then, sliding and gripping absentmindedly  and Liam lets out a long rush of air. He glances down at Zayn, who’s kept his eyes firmly closed. 

"Thank you," Liam says to him, laughing quietly, "You don’t know how long - how long I’ve wanted - "

"Liam?"

"Yeah?"

Zayn’s voice sounds bizarre, “Go to sleep.”

_____________

Liam hasn’t been surfing since his trip to Australia nearly a year and a half ago, so even though the waters are a bit too warm and the waves not very high, he takes a boat out far enough to be able to find something decent enough to surf. 

It takes his mind off edge a little, allows him to push the events of this morning out of his mind. He forgets how he’d woken up early, only to lay in bed and pretend that he was still asleep so as not to make things awkward. Forgets how Zayn smelled and felt like and how Liam felt so fucking empty after Zayn slid away from his grip. 

Okay, so maybe Liam hasn’t forgotten a damn thing. 

His mood sours rapidly after that little revelation and he ends up back on the beach in under forty minutes, standing dripping with water, sand crusted on the soles of his feet. On the porch, Zayn’s burning a cigarette in one hand, piece of charcoal moving rapidly in the other. 

"Zayn?" he calls and Zayn looks up at him once. He’s been very quiet with Liam all day, "You hungry, babe? We can have lunch now if you want."

Zayn sets aside his sketch pad as Liam walks closer and shades his eyes against the incoming sun. He follows Liam back inside the villa and doesn’t speak until Liam prompts him again. 

"Well?" Liam shakes the sand out of hair, reaching for another towel from the bathroom, "I can be ready in twenty minutes and we can go wherever you want."

"Let me," Zayn says suddenly and when Liam looks back him, Zayn’s studiously avoiding his eyes, tracing his gaze on the grainy, wood flooring, "Let me take you out."

Liam sets down the towel carefully and turns the shower on so it can warm up behind his back. The way his heart is conducting its own personal Olympic’s Winner’s Ceremony was probably unhealthy but Liam can’t help it - it’s as if something’s been drastically flipped in the last few days and he’s going to take what he can get from Zayn. 

"Okay," Liam tells him, smiling like a nutcase. Zayn doesn’t mirror his look, instead refusing to meet Liam’s gaze all together. 

Zayn takes Liam down to a little Italian place down the beach that’s owned by the hotel franchise where they’re staying. It’s quaint and quiet and they don’t make much conversation. 

Except, when the time comes to pay the bill, Zayn foots it immediately, eyeing Liam challengingly at the action. Liam still has his smile plastered to his face but even he can’t let go of the panic building in his chest when he watches Zayn part with money so easily.

He’s not sure what to make of it - what to make of Zayn. 

And it’s like he’s back at square one. 

_____________

Zayn strips the two of them the minute they’re back in the villa, shoving Liam onto the bed and crowding him into the headboard. It’s still the middle of the afternoon so Liam can see the sunlight peek out from behind the gauzy curtains, illuminating Zayn’s eyes. 

Zayn straddles him and looks down at him, assessing him. Liam feels small and foreign, especially when Zayn reaches back to press two fingers down, down, down, against his rim. 

"You ever been fucked?" 

Liam swallows, the burn of Zayn’s fingers white hot against his cool skin. “No,” he admits. 

Zayn’s brow furrows, “So I’ll be your first, then?”

And Liam’s losing counts of all the firsts Zayn is becoming - Zayn who can tear him down and build him up with just a few words. He chokes, “Yes.”

Zayn pushes off him until they’re both lying side by side, face to face and slicks up two fingers, guiding them inside Liam at the same time. Liam bites down on his lower lip so hard, he swears there’s going to be blood the next time he looks in the mirror, but he knows what Zayn is doing. Zayn is trying to make this hurt. 

"Liam?" Zayn says by his ear, "Liam look at me."

Liam raises his head and determinedly locks his gaze with Zayn’s sunlit eyes, “Zayn.”

"Liam," Zayn’s mouth twists, "Does it hurt?"

Liam swallows, “Yeah.”

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No," Liam mutters, reaching out to press his face into Zayn’s shoulders, "Nobody’s done this to me before, you know - but. But you can. Now and - and whenever you want."

Zayn makes a noise in the bottom of his throat and Liam can see that he’s fighting back tears, fingers almost savage in the way they twist Liam open, “Hands and knees,” Zayn gets out, “I don’t want to see your face.”

Liam looks at him for long, long moments and Zayn stares back just as hard, chest heaving with an emotion Liam doesn’t understand.

"Liam," Zayn snaps at him, " _Now_.”

Liam kisses his shoulder again and turns to do exactly what Zayn asks him to. His tears drip onto the duvet from this position and Zayn reaches forward to roughly wipe them away. 

“ _Jesus Christ_ ,” Zayn is hissing hotly, “ _Jesus fucking Christ_.”

_____________

Liam spends a lot of that day in bed, hiding beneath the covers even when Zayn pushes off him as soon as he’s done, one hand snagging his phone as he tips out of the room a little unsteadily. 

And Liam’s not sure what he’s supposed to do with the signals he’s getting anymore - Zayn’s almost sweet one second and a complete and utter asshole the other. And, it’s not like Liam’s not used to the asshole Zayn, but it’s just that he’s also seen what Zayn’s like when he’s kinder. It’s a bit like a drug - he’s had a little taste and now he claws his way to try and get another. 

When he steps out to get a glass of water, Zayn’s on the phone in the living room and Liam’s not exactly sure if he can take anymore cruel words at this second. 

He already knows that he’s not what Zayn wants - he doesn’t need to hear the words from Zayn again when he feels like his mind is being ripped in two. 

"Fuck," Zayn is saying, "He - he fucking does everything I fucking ask him to." He sounds frustrated and Liam tries to ignore him on the way to the kitchen, but his voice echoes in the hallways and Liam’s left open to every, pain-filled word. 

"Ant, I can’t do fucking do this anymore, you should see his  _face_ sometimes. Acting like an asshole is  - its doing nothing for me anymore. Sure, it may’ve had him running back to give me a set of bloody keys, but this time - no. No I’m not fucking  _going soft_. I just - you know what, mate, go fuck yourself. Dunno why I’m talking to you, you’re ‘bout as stupid as I am. Yeah. Yeah alright. Whatever.”

Liam takes a deep breath, forgoes the glass of water, and makes his way back to the living room. 

Zayn is sunk into one corner of the couch, head in his hands.

"Zayn?" Liam clears his throat, "Something wrong, Zayn?"

Zayn looks up at him with wild-eyes, “Liam. Liam, _fuck_.” It’s the first time he’s ever panicked about Liam overhearing one of his phone calls.

Liam looks away from him and slips his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. “You know,” he smiles bitterly, “There’s nothing you have to do to get me to give you things. I _like_  doing those things for you. Like seeing you happy - even if it’s just for a few hours.” 

Zayn stands and steps up in front of him. Liam looks away as words that he’d never thought he’d say tumble out of his mouth, “I mean. At first it was about me - having the fittest person in the room on my arm - and then. I’m not sure when it happened, but like. I know,” Liam licks his lips, voice shaking, “I know I don’t have anything you want besides my wallet but that’s okay with me I think? I mean - this mess is my fault anyway, some stupid thing for me to show people that I - still  _had it_  or whatever - and it fucking backfired in my face. It just - you’re - I’m - “

But Zayn’s backing away, shaking his head and falling into himself as he slinks back to the bedroom, leaving Liam’s confession of love hanging in his mouth. 

_____________

Liam comes clean that night, makes a fateful confession in the darkness of the bedroom and Zayn’s answering silence says it all. 

But Zayn is worth it. 

He is.

As sad as it sounds, Zayn’s the longest and closest person Liam’s ever let into his life besides his immediate family. And he’s not going to let that go, no matter how much it picks at his arteries. 

_____________

Zayn’s not there in the morning when he wakes up in a cold bed, body collapsing inwards when he involuntarily reaches out for any leftover warmth. 

Liam’s not sure when he came such a dependent, vulnerable bastard.

He’s in an empty villa with alcohol and a broken heart - getting smashed before noon doesn’t seem like such a bad idea anymore. And with more alcohol than blood in his body, he’s not sure why he ever wrote such behavior off as unhelpful, unproductive, and cowardly.

Liam has a lot of mending to do today, so he sits in the armchair in the living room, waiting for Zayn to show up when he decides to show up. 

He has to wait three hours before Zayn comes in, dark purple circles under his eyes and smelling like smoke.  Liam doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything more lovely in his life than Zayn coming home to  _him_. 

He as to scowl at his mind for the thought - remind it where the alcohol induced fantasies end and where reality begins, no matter how hard it is to swallow. 

Zayn stops in his tracks when he sees him, “You’re drunk.” He glances at the grandfather clock in the corner, “It’s one in the afternoon.”

Liam smiles at him, “You were gone.” His voice goes soft, “Snuck out before I fucking woke up.”

 ”I just went to think a little,” Zayn mutters, sliding into the kitchen, “You want some water?”

"No," Liam shakes his head and looks mournfully down at his empty glass, "But some wine would be nice."

Zayn stalks back to the living room, one hand gripping a glass of water that he shoves in Liam’s direction, “Drink.”

Liam looks at him and he knows he probably looks ridiculous, still in pajamas, drunk, and trying to pull huge eyes at Zayn. He takes the glass and washes down the water, wincing as Zayn opens the blinds, sunlight pushing into his eyes.

He lets out a sound that, horrifyingly, sounds something like a whimper, and Zayn looks at him like he doesn’t understand how Liam could possibly be so pathetic. It’s okay, Zayn’s allowed to wonder, Liam doesn’t know either.

Zayn sighs, looking to the ceiling for patience, before leading Liam back into the bedroom and tucking him in the bed that’s splattered with what’s remaining of Liam’s heart after Zayn refused it last night. 

Zayn sits at the edge, looking down at him with a hard gaze that has Liam flinching into the covers. Zayn yanks them back, “God you’re such a child when you’re drunk.”

Liam scowls, “Can’t you leave me to my misery?” He sits up, fumbling with the bedside drawer, pulling out his wallet and offering it to Zayn, “Take it. Fuck I don’t even care anymore. Just - god, Zayn, please get out of my life.”

Zayn pushes his hand down firmly onto the bed and levels him with a look, “You want me to leave?” And it sounds like a serious question, one that’s crossed LIam’s mind more than once. 

He doesn’t even have to think before the answer is tumbling off of his alcohol heavy tongue, “No.” He reaches out, gripping Zayn’s hands, “Don’t leave. I love you.”

Zayn’s gaze doesn’t waver, though he does flinch at the words.

And Liam laughs so he doesn’t cry, “God. Don’t you have a conscious, Zayn? I’ve given you - ” he breaks off, gasping, He curls into the duvet and this time, Zayn doesn’t stop him, “You don’t feel anything? Nothing at all? Not even a ‘fuck I’d actually miss you if you died tomorrow, Liam?’ Not even that?”

Zayn huffs, “You’re an idiot.”

"Yeah," Liam agrees, "yeah I am. A massive, fucking idiot for you."

And Zayn sighs heavily, leaning over him, until they’re pressed forehead to forehead. 

Liam pushes his wallet into Zayn’s hands, “Take it. Please.”

Zayn’s facade cracks at that and shoves and pins Liam’s arm tightly under the blanket, his grip brand-like on Liam’s wrist. For one minute, Liam actually thinks Zayn’s going to hit him, but instead, Zayn squeezes his eyes closed and swallows, “I’m sorry.”

Liam’s brow furrows in confusion, “For what?”

"For everything - " Zayn admits, pausing, "and I don’t want your money, Liam. Not that much of a gold-digger." His tone is wry and bitter. 

"I never thought you were a gold-digger."

Zayn gives him a look, until he can’t anymore, breaking eye-contact to sweep his gaze out the window, “I’m scared,” he confesses suddenly.

And now Liam will be the first to admit that he’s completely confused, “Of me?”

"Yes," Zayn gets out, "of you."

"So," Liam’s head hurts and he’s not sure if it’s because of the alcohol or Zayn’s confusing language, "But - "

"Jesus," Zayn stands abruptly, "you’re  _smashed -_ we’ll talk later, yeah?”

Liam looks up at him, nodding a bit foolishly, ” ‘kay.” He moves to get out of bed but Zayn shoves him back, probably a little harder than necessary. 

Liam looks at him, biting down on his bottom lip and Zayn levels him with a hard look, “I don’t love you.”

"Okay," Liam blinks. This time, he doesn’t try and follow Zayn when he leaves.

_____________

It’s dark when he wakes up next, probably past dinner time. Zayn’s in an armchair next to the bed, chewing on a granola bar, and flipping through a tourist brochure. Liam watches him for a long time, Zayn’s jaw illuminated by the bedside lamp and the setting sun, fading light casting shadows into the hollows of his collarbones. 

Liam knows the only reason Zayn is still here is because of his ego - Liam’s ego that refuses to let go of something that hurts him more than makes him happy because Zayn is sparkly and beautiful and somehow Liam’s translated that into being  _the best._

Zayn catches him staring, “What?”

Liam shakes his head, flinching at the gesture because his head still hurts, “Nothing,” he smiles softly, “Just trying to figure out why exactly I love you. Because you don’t deserve it.”

Zayn sets down the brochure and leans back in the chair, hands over his eyes, “I’m sorry.”

Liam wants to shout - to fucking scream - but he can’t because his head hurts too much and maybe, yeah, getting drunk wasn’t the best idea, “Are you?”

"Yes," Zayn says honestly, "I’m - not quite too sure why you stick around either, to be honest. Figured you’d actually leave after one fuck really, but then you didn’t - and I thought - "

"You thought,  _here’s my chance, why not go for it_.”

Zayn’s shoulders cave in and he curls his feet under him on the armchair to make himself smaller, “It wasn’t about the money. Not really.”

Liam lets out a long rush of air, “I know. Knew since the other day when you took me out. It’s - I’m not sure what it is, exactly - but more like, power, yeah? You liked that I did everything for you until you didn’t anymore. But you know what - I think I’d rather have strangers laugh at me and tell me  _I told you so_  about you rather than make myself as unhappy as I am when I’m with you.”

"Okay."

Liam pauses and for a minute there’s no sound in the room other than the rhythmic beats of the ocean inside. 

"That’s all?" he mutters at last, "That’s all you can say?"

Zayn sighs, “What do you want me to say, Liam?”

Liam gestures furiously with his hands and sits up, “ _Why_? Why the fuck did you do all this? Why are you scared? I don’t understand anything that happens in your head, Zayn, because we’ve spent over a year together and I still know nothing about you.”

Zayn picks at the fabric on the chair and leans over, cradling his face in his hands with his elbows on his knees, “For someone who runs a corporate business, you’re so fucking stupid, it hurts.”

"Stop," Liam’s voice breaks, and he curses internally, "Please stop insulting me for  _once_  and just give me a straight answer, okay.”

Zayn shakes his head, frowning, “I’m sorry.”

Liam stands up, ignoring the pounding in his head, “That’s what you always say - “

"Shut up, Liam." Zayn closes his eyes, "Give me a minute, yeah."

LIam closes his mouth, falling silent as Zayn swallows, hands shaking, “Because - ” Zayn cuts himself off suddenly. He stands up, getting in Liam’s face, “Because I wasn’t going to be a fucking  _cliche,_ okay.I’m so sorry you were expecting someone you could push around - “

" - I  _never_ expected - “

“ _Shut up_ ,” Zayn explodes, “Shut. The. Hell. Up. You want to hear me talk? Then fucking listen and stop inventing theories in your head all the fucking time.”

Liam falls back on to the bed, as Zayn steps up in front of him, hands on his shoulders. “You did,” Zayn continues, voice significantly calmer, “You weren’t looking for anything serious and don’t lie to me Liam, you wanted someone you could fuck without bothering to open up correctly, who wouldn’t fucking complain as long as you shoved a golden spoon in their mouth. And okay, that’s cool - but there was no fucking way you were going to  _humiliate_  and  _embarrass_  me okay, and if you wanted those things, I wanted something in return.”

Liam wipes the sweat off his palm on the sheets as Zayn moves back into his seat, “I haven’t felt that way in a long time. Zayn - ” he closes his eyes, “I’ve made it more than obvious that I care about you - a lot. I mean I even - “

"You  _what_ , Liam?” Zayn taunts cruelly, “You think being nice to me and wanting to make me your  _official_ bitch was going to - “

"You’re crazy," Liam breathes, laughing a little hysterically, "Jesus christ, you are crazy, Zayn. You’re telling me to stop inventing theories in my head - and you’ve what? Come up with a way to twist everything and anything I do?"

Zayn looks away, breathing hard, and Liam can see that he’s fighting tears. And suddenly, it’s bit hard to forgot how old Zayn is, that despite the confidence in his step, Zayn’s shoulders are small and his eyes are scared. 

"Zayn," Liam leans forward, tugging him off the chair and into his body. Zayn struggles half-heartedly, but Liam’s firm, puling him close until Zayn’s practically in his lap, legs thrown over Liam’s thighs, "Zayn, you think I tell just anybody that I love them?"

"I don’t know?" Zayn mutters back, "I don’t know anything. This is - " he gestures to the expensive room, "And my car,  _fuck_. I just didn’t want to walk away from something that meant nothing to you empty handed, you know.”

Liam rubs his shoulders carefully, leaning into Zayn’s neck, “Yeah,” he says, “Yeah I know.”

They’re silent for a few moments as Zayn’s heartbeat returns to a relatively normal level.

"I do love you."

"You don’t," Zayn replies stubbornly, "You keep me around for your image, I know it - "

"Zayn," Liam whispers, then, sadly, "Don’t you believe anything I say?"

"I don’t love you," Zayn insists loudly, "You think I was going to get attached to someone who - I  _knew_  Ant was right - “

Liam holds him tighter, “I do like the way people look at me when they see us together,” he admits, “But that doesn’t mean that I don’t like having you there in the first place.”

"But, why?" Zayn laughs, "I’ve been nothing but a fucking  _twat.”_

Liam shrugs, “There’s only so many times two people can sleep together and wake up together before someone takes the plunge, yeah. Besides -” he hesitates, “I’m not, like, trying to push you into anything. If you’re not ready, then I understand.”

"I’m not," Zayn interjects quietly and Liam blinks at him. Zayn finally relaxes in his arms, "I’ve spent a year trying to convince myself to stay as unattached as possible. It’s going to be a bit before I say things like love, okay?"

"Okay," Liam agrees. 

Zayn reaches for his hair, carding his hands through clumsily, “I do care though, Li - like if you died tomorrow or whatever.” 

They sit there for long moments, Liam digesting Zayn’s words as he feels  _calm_  settle into the cracks between his bones for the first time since this whole shit-storm-thing began.

"Come on," Liam pats his back a little awkwardly, "Our flight is tomorrow night. Let’s get some sleep so we can poke around a little more tomorrow."

Zayn cracks his first real smile in a couple days and lets Liam pull him down and push him under the covers as Liam gets up to take a sheepish shower at nine pm. 

When he comes back, skin tingling from the hot water, Zayn’s curled into Liam’s side of the bed, eyes nearly falling shut. Liam grins softly and slides onto Zayn’s pillow. It’s fitting in some ways - switching places - what with everything that’s happened in the past twenty-four hours. 

"Love you," Liam mutters, reaching out to rub his thumb over Zayn’s cheekbone, "That’s real."

Zayn hums, shoving closer, but his voice is hesitant when he speaks next, “I think I know that. But - can you not say that yet? I’ll. I’ll let you know when it’s okay, yeah?”

Liam shrugs because he can do that, “Sure. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Zayn smiles gratefully up at him and rests his cheek in the space where Liam’s shoulder meets his neck, “Thanks,” he mumbles.

Liam furrows his brow, “For what?”

"For not giving up on me."

_____________

They fly back the next night and Zayn sleeps through the entire thing, head in Liam’s lap as his chest rises and falls rhythmically.

Zayn is exhausted and that’s okay because Liam is too.

_____________

Things are different after that. Better. Warmer. 

Zayn laughs more and Liam learns that his eyes crinkle at the corners and that his nose scrunches when he does. Learns that Zayn really likes comic books and Liam remembers his own teenage years curled up reading under his covers long after he was supposed to be in bed. Learns that Zayn plays the piano and paints and writes and is incredibly creative and has a lot of friends who think the  _world_  of Zayn, confronting Liam the minute they meet him with warnings and promises of death if Zayn ever cried because of him. 

They’re not really all that romantic and Liam doesn’t ever think they will be. Zayn would much rather bend him over and fuck him than take him out somewhere nice and honestly, if that’s what it comes down to, Liam’s more than okay with it. 

Liam continues to push Zayn through college and Zayn tells him, fidgeting, that he’ll work it off in Liam’s company in a few years if that was okay with Liam. Liam grins at him and tells him he could use the experience anyway while Zayn throws things at him, muttering that he’s had all the experience he needs with dealing with Liam. 

Nothing’s really changed, except that maybe Zayn sleeps closer to him and makes stupid jokes during sex, but Liam can’t help but feel that, somehow, everything’s changed. 

_____________

There’s a knock at his office door and when Liam goes up to open it, Zayn’s standing outside with a cup of coffee and a sheepish smile.

"Hello," Liam says smoothly, eyebrows raising, "Aren’t you supposed to be in class?"

Zayn winces, “I  _was_  in class. But then I decided I needed to see you.”

Liam rolls his eyes, leaning against the door jam and blocking Zayn’s way into his office, “Why?”

"Because," Zayn narrows his eyes, "I need to tell you that no matter what my friends say, I’m never calling you daddy."

Liam chokes and Zayn smiles sweetly at his pain. 

"That’s," Liam swallows, "That’s nice." He wants the ground to swallow him up, "I mean. That’s good. Because I don’t think I could handle that, actually."

"Good," Zayn says, glancing at his watch, "Fuck. My class ends in about twenty minutes." He looks up at Liam, not looking the least bit sorry, "Guess it’s smarter if I just stay then."

Liam sighs. 

"Oh yeah," Zayn says, offhandedly, "I almost forgot. I love you too. You can start saying it to me now."

Liam feels his chest expand and something sort of wedge in his throat, “ _Zayn_ , I love you.” He smiles widely, feeling a bit like a nutter, and steps back - 

"Glad to know we’re on the same page then, Li."

\- letting Zayn walk into his office and into the rest of his life. 

_____________

**Author's Note:**

> YEAH that last scene is totally unrelated to the rest of the fic but I just wanted it because self indulgence. Hope you enjoyed :D :D


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